


Lies as Sweet as Chocolate

by EvensDramaticShenanigans



Series: Spierfeld Week [4]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: 8 am classes are the worst, Alternate Universe - College/University, Chocolate Milk, Coffee, M/M, Oh right Bram can :), Simon can't function without coffee, Spierfeld Week, honestly who can?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 00:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvensDramaticShenanigans/pseuds/EvensDramaticShenanigans
Summary: Bram’s a smart guy, he knows his shit about calculus, he understands all the steps of the Krebs cycle in biology, and he can list off more symbolism in any one of Shakespeare’s plays than he has fingers and toes to count them on, but when it comes to coffee his knowledge is limited toabsolutely fucking nothing. He doesn’t know the difference between a cappuccino and a latte, couldn’t name a single type of coffee bean if his life depended on it, and he’s never even heard of cold brew before.But Simon— well, Simon lives on coffee. It’s his daily fuel, and while he always gets the same thing everyday, he seems well versed enough in the world of caffeine in a way Bram doesn’t even come close to.So when Simon offers to bring him a coffee every morning, Bram does the only reasonable thing there is to do. He panics.





	Lies as Sweet as Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey friends! Happy day four of Spierfeld week! I found this prompt a while ago and I had it lined up for a different fandom originally, but god, it was too perfect to not use for Spierfeld haha. I had so much fun writing this and I actually really love how it turned out! I hope you guys love it too! 
> 
> Thank you Paula for the title! <3
> 
>  
> 
> Without further ado, enjoyyy!

Bram’s alarm only has to ring twice before he’s practically yanking his phone from the charger and smashing the dismiss button. 

It’s funny how much college changes a person. In high school, Bram was a morning person. He rarely had problems waking up at 6:30 for school every morning, and he even willingly woke up early on the weekends to go for a jog. But ever since he tasted the freedom that is crafting your own schedule and choosing classes with later start times, Bram’s relationship with waking up early has taken a blow. 

In fact, he hadn’t planned on taking an early class at all this semester, and, thankfully, none of the classes he wanted to take began before ten am. Of course, that all changed when Simon Spier came along and fucked up that plan. 

Bram and Garrett had been sitting with Nick and Abby in the dining commons waiting for Leah and Simon to finish up at their respective advising appointments and join them for lunch.

When they finally appeared, they both had plates of less than appealing dining commons food in hand and were laughing at something Leah said. Simon set his plate down in the empty space next to Bram and slipped into the seat, sending Bram a private grin before greeting the rest of the table. 

“How was the advising?” Nick asked around a mouthful of Alfredo pasta— one of the only decent dishes served anymore. 

Simon shrugged as he picked up his fork. “It was alright,” he answered. “I got roped into signing up for an eight am class,” he sighed, pressing his lips together and rolling his eyes to the side.

“No way,” Garrett laughed, shaking his head. “Man, eight ams are the fucking worst. I had one last semester and I think I only showed up on the first day and like twice when we had tests.”

Leah rolled her eyes at that and pointed her fork at Garrett. “See, this is why you only have a 3.2 gpa.” 

“3.2 isn't bad, Leah,” Garrett argued, frowning at her.

“No,” she shook her head. “It's not bad. But it could be way better,” she shrugged. 

“Anyways, I had to take it in order to fit the lit requirement into my schedule. So that means we’re not going to be in the same lit class anymore, Abby,” Simon explained, sending Abby an apologetic look.

“No!” Abby whined, smacking her hand gently onto the tabletop. “Damn, that was going to be the best, Si.”

“I know,” Simon sighed. “Next semester, for sure,” he promised. “Now I have to take that class all by myself— unless one of you who hasn't registered wants to take it with me,” Simon suggested, quirking his eyebrows and casting a glance around the table.

Nick shoveled another forkful of pasta into his mouth so he wouldn't have to reply and Garrett shook his head vehemently. Leah had already signed up for her classes, and Abby already planned to take that class at a much later time in the day. Which left Bram. 

“Hey, Bram, you should take it with Spier,” Garrett chirped, nodding towards Bram and flicking his eyebrows up once— a gesture (hopefully) only Bram understood.

Simon twisted his neck so he could look at Bram beside him and he used his elbow to nudge Bram’s arm. “What do you say?” He asked. “Lit at eight am with me? You in?” 

Bram wanted to say no, he really did. But the way Simon was looking at him with his wide, moon grey puppy dog eyes and his pretty pink lips quirked in a curious smile had Bram’s resolve crumbling much faster than he would have liked. 

“Mm, I don't know, Simon,” Bram started, but before he could say much else, Garrett was kicking his shin under the table and showing him a stern look. 

“Come on Bram, you can't let him suffer that eight am alone. That's just cruel,” he pointed out,  smirking wickedly.

“Yeah,” Simon joined in, nudging Bram again. “You can't leave me all alone in there,” he said, pouting at Bram. And god damn, it’s like Simon Spier knew every single one of Bram’s weaknesses and was playing right into each one. 

With a (fondly) exasperated sigh, Bram threw his hands up, ready to concede. “Alright, alright. Fine, I'll sign up for the eight am with you, Simon,” he said like it was the worst decision he ever had to make. (It  _ so _ wasn't.) 

The grin that spread across Simon's face alone was enough to make the whole idea of an eight am worth it. 

That is, until Bram actually had to wake up for it. 

Ever so slowly, Bram rolls out of his bed and places his two feet flat on the floor below him. He goes through his morning routine in a half-asleep haze and the one coherent thought he has the whole time he’s dressing himself and brushing his teeth is  _ Simon Spier— you're doing this for Simon Spier _ . 

Said boy is already sitting right in the middle of the second row from the front when Bram walks into the lecture hall at 7:51 am. He makes his way towards Simon, side stepping a few backpacks and almost tripping over a few outstretched legs to get there. When he finally slides into the seat next to Simon, Simon is already looking at him with a friendly expression on his face.

“Good morning,” he greets, flashing Bram that cute little half-smile, one eye crinkle thing he does that always turns Bram’s insides to mush. 

“Morning, Simon,” Bram replies. He unzips his backpack and pulls out a clean notebook and a pen, setting them in front of himself before pushing his backpack to the floor next to him. 

“Hey, thanks again for agreeing to take this class with me. I know eight ams aren't exactly ideal, but that was pretty cool of you,” Simon says.

Bram can't help the small chuckle that slips past his lips. Eight ams are  _ not _ ideal at all, but he’d probably do just about anything Simon asks him to, so. “Couldn't let you suffer alone, now, could I?” Bram responds jokingly.

Simon laughs and the half-smile grows. He doesn’t say anything after that, instead reaches for the plastic cup of what Bram assumes is iced coffee— he’s not sure, he doesn’t know shit about coffee— that he didn’t even notice was sitting on the desk in front of Simon. Simon lifts the cup up and bites the straw between his teeth before closing his lips around it, and Bram swallows hard at that. He watches as Simon sips the drink, watches the purse of his lips, watches the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each swill, and  _ god _ , Bram can’t tear his eyes away.

He’s so lost in Simon’s mouth and the way the tip of his pink tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips and then smoothes over them, that he doesn’t even realize that Simon’s set the drink back down until his voice is pulling Bram from his very,  _ very _ inappropriate thoughts.

“Sorry, what?” He asks, his cheeks turning pink as embarrassment floods through his body.

“Oh, I noticed you looking at my coffee and I was just saying how I have to get a cup every morning otherwise I literally can’t function,” Simon repeats, chuckling at his statement. He shakes his head at himself and offers up a small shrug as if to say  _ what can you do? _

_ Looking at your coffee, right. That’s totally what I was looking at _ , Bram thinks to himself and bites down on his lip to stop himself from actually saying it out loud. 

“Hey, I always go right before this class so I can get you one too, if you want,” Simon offers, and before Bram can thank him for the offer but politely decline— because coffee? No thank you— Simon continues on. “It’s the least I could do for making you take an eight am with me. Think of it as a thank you.” 

All rejections die on Bram’s lips as Simon tilts his head to the side questioningly, an almost hopeful expression on his face. And, god damn, Bram really needs to learn how to say no, especially to Simon. “Yeah, sure,” he agrees, despite the fact that he hates coffee, thus making this the  _ worst _ idea ever. He’s already trying to think of ways to get out of drinking whatever concoction Simon is going to bring for him. 

“Great!” Simon chirps. 

Bram thinks that’s the end of it— that they’ll either fall into a somewhat comfortable silence or move onto a new topic— but of course it’s not. Why would it be? 

“Is there anything specific you want me to get you?” 

If Bram thought the alarm that had gone off this morning to wake him up was bad, it pales in comparison to the panicked alarms that are ringing through his head right now because— _shit shit shit_ _Simon just asked what kind of coffee he wants_! Bram’s a smart guy, he knows his shit about calculus, he understands all the steps of the Krebs cycle in biology, and he can list off more symbolism in any one of Shakespeare’s plays than he has fingers and toes to count them on, but when it comes to coffee his knowledge is limited to _absolutely fucking nothing_. He doesn’t know the difference between a cappuccino and a latte, couldn’t name a single type of coffee bean if his life depended on it, and he’s never even heard of cold brew before. 

But Simon— well, Simon lives on coffee. It’s his daily fuel, and while he always gets the same thing everyday, he seems well versed enough in the world of caffeine in a way Bram doesn’t even come close to. 

Bram really hopes that his expression isn’t as alarmed as he feels right now. He opens his mouth, though he still has no idea what to say, and then closes it immediately. His mind if completely blank as he stares, probably wide-eyed, at Simon.

If Simon notices he doesn’t say anything about it. He picks up his cup again and gives it a little shake, the ice clanking against the sides. “I usually just get an iced coffee— it’s pretty basic, but it does the trick,” he grins.

“Oh,” Bram says and then starts to nod. “Yeah, iced coffee sounds great,” he says, thankful that Simon interjected like that and literally saved him from making an ass out of himself. 

He nearly lets out a sigh of relief when Simon lifts his hand to his forehead in a tiny salute. “You got it,” he replies.

It’s then that their professor hurries into the lecture hall and greets the class as he loads up the slides for today’s class. Bram’s kind of grateful for that since it causes Simon to turn back towards the front of the room and pick up his pen, effectively ending any and all further conversations about coffee.

And if Bram spends the rest of the class replaying that moment in his head over and over and cringing at it each time, then only he has to know that.

 

True to his word, Simon shows up to every single class with two plastic cups of iced coffee in hand, one for himself and one for Bram. He hands Bram’s over as he slides into his seat and he always has this cute little smile on his face as he does, almost as if bringing Bram coffee every morning is the highlight of his day. (Bram hopes it is because seeing that smile certainly is the highlight of  _ his _ day.)

The first time Simon brought him the iced coffee, Bram nearly choked on his first sip. He hadn’t even taken that large of a gulp, but the second the bitter liquid hit tongue his face twisted up and the urge to cough it up hit him hard. He thanked his lucky stars that Simon had turned away to fish his notebook from his backpack, and Bram was quick to school his features into something less disgusted. How Simon drank this  _ every single morning _ was beyond him. 

He’s gotten better at drinking it over time, though. Bram still wants to spit every sip out right away, but swallowing it down has gotten much easier and he’s not as worried about Simon finding out about his lie anymore. 

Knowing his luck, however, he really shouldn’t have gotten too used to that. 

 

When Bram arrives at class Simon’s not there. He usually is always there before Bram— probably because he wakes up earlier for the sole purpose of being able to get coffee and still get to class early— but today, his seat is empty. 

Any worries Bram has are quelled when his phone buzzes and lights up with a new message from Simon, letting him know that he overslept this morning and that he’s not going to be able to pick up coffee if he wants to make it to class on time. There’s about a dozen frowny face emojis at the end of his text, and Bram absolutely can’t help the smile that curves onto his face.

He closes the messaging app and his eyes flicker up to the corner of his screen to check the clock. He’s grateful when he realizes that he arrived early enough that there’s enough time for him to pop over to the campus coffee shop that’s conveniently housed in this building— right next to their classroom, in fact. It’s not Dancing Goats Coffee Bar, but it’s still coffee, right? (At least, Bram hopes he’s right.)

And Bram’s totally waiting in the three person long line because he needs his daily fix of caffeine—  _ totally _ . It’s definitely not just so he can surprise Simon with the coffee and see the huge smile he already knows will spread across Simon’s face, just for him. (Who is he kidding, it’s absolutely because of that. He’s not even ordering an iced coffee for himself.)

The line moves quicker than Bram expected and before he knows it he’s ordered, paid, and is already being handed his two drinks. 

Simon’s still not there when Bram gets back to the lecture hall, so he just sets the two paper cups onto the desk and opens his backpack to pull out the necessary class materials.

There’s about three minutes left before class starts when Simon finally rushes into the room, and he practically collapses into his seat beside Bram. 

“Hey, sorry I’m so late and that I couldn’t stop and get coffee. I seriously don’t know how I’m going to make it through class without—” Simon cuts himself off mid sentence when his eyes land on the paper cups and he lifts a finger to point at them, his lips already spreading into that beautiful grin Bram hoped he’d get to see. “Are those…?” He trails off. “Did you go and get coffee?” 

Bram nods, and he can’t keep his own lips from quirking up too. “I figured it was about time I returned the favor,” he shrugs, trying to sound casual and collected about it. He mentally applauds himself for actually making the mark on that. 

Of course, all chill goes straight out the window when he glances back at Simon. The first thing that pops into his head is  _ wow, where are my sunglasses _ ? Because the smile that’s lighting up Simon’s face now is so damn bright, and Bram kind of wants to just kiss it right off his face. He wishes he could, but that’s a thought he carefully files away for another time.

“God, Abraham Louis Greenfeld you are a literal lifesaver,” Simon practically moans and he reaches for the cup closest to him, bringing the straw to his lips. 

This time around Bram doesn’t really get the chance to ogle Simon’s lips, because the second the liquid makes its way up to his mouth, he pops off of the straw and lets out a surprised laugh.

“I think they might have given you the wrong drink,” Simon comments, his brows furrowed together, amusement playing across his features. “This isn’t iced coffee— it’s chocolate milk.”

Bram’s eyes widen and heat rushes to his cheeks. “Oh my god,” he mumbles under his breath and he shakes his head, bringing his hands up to his face to bury it in them. 

“What?” Simon asks, his voice dripping with curiosity and mirth. 

Bram drops his hands from his face and picks up the other cup, holding it out for Simon. “This one must be the iced coffee then,” he says, offering a weak little smile. “The uh,” Bram clears his throat, “the chocolate milk is mine.” 

A small laugh bubbles out of Simon’s mouth. “Oh,” he says simply and takes the iced coffee from Bram before passing the chocolate milk back to him. “Getting sick of iced coffee or something?” He jokes, nudging Bram with his elbow. 

And Bram just reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck before turning a sheepish expression towards Simon. “Actually,” he starts slowly, and Simon’s eyebrow raises. “I kind of…. Don’t? Like iced coffee?” Bram phrases it more as a question, even though it’s most definitely a statement. 

“Oh, shit, you don’t?” Simon repeats, his face immediately scrunching up. Bram feels his heart constrict tightly in his chest at that because shit, what if that’s some sort of deal breaker for Simon? Forget something more— what if he won’t even be  _ friends _ with Bram because of his complete distaste for coffee? 

Bram shakes his head. “I don’t. Like at all. I actually kind of hate coffee,” he admits quietly, his eyes dropping down to his lap.

“Oh my god,” Simon mutters, and Bram can’t even look up at him. “Shit, Bram. If you don’t like coffee why the hell didn’t you say something?” 

_ This is it _ , Bram thinks.  _ This is how my friendship with Simon Spier ends. _

“You didn’t have to drink it every day, oh my god. I totally could have gotten you something else if you wanted,” Simon continues on— and, wait, what? “Dancing Goats serves chocolate milk, I’m pretty sure,” he adds.

Bram looks up from his lap, his eyes wide as they find Simon’s. Simon doesn’t look mad. He doesn’t look upset or irritated either. Instead, he looks completely sincere, his gaze earnest and completely judgement free. “I mean, I didn’t want to say that because I know how much you love coffee and I didn’t want to, like, disappoint you or something. I know it’s pretty lame— like, who doesn’t like coffee, right?” Bram lets out a humorless laugh. 

“Bram,” Simon says, and he’s sending Bram that soft half-smile he loves so much. “It’s not lame that you don’t like coffee and it doesn’t disappoint me or anything like that,” he reassures, and Bram definitely feels comforted by that. “Actually, chocolate milk is pretty freaking amazing. I used to drink it religiously as a kid,” he laughs and his eyes crinkle up at the corners. 

Bram laughs too, feeling so much more relieved now that he knows it really isn’t a big deal. He takes a sip of his chocolate milk and feels lighter than he has in a while. 

“It’s totally cool you don’t like coffee,” Simon starts. “It just kind of puts a bit of a damper on my plan to ask you out for coffee now. But I can figure something else out, for sure.” He says it so casually, and Bram had no idea how. 

He’s sitting there with his heart about to beat right out of his chest, and he isn’t even the one that mentioned a date. “You… you were going to ask me out for coffee?” Bram repeats, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Simon just nods. “Yeah. We can find somewhere that serves chocolate milk instead though— or wait, what about chocolate ice cream? We could go to Dairy Queen— they have the most amazing oreo blizzard. I guess that’s not really chocolate milk  _ or _ chocolate ice cream but it’s just a whole cup of holy freaking amazingness. Complete frothy deliciousness— seriously, it changed my life.” Simon pauses and a timid expression crosses over his face. “Shit, sorry, I’m rambling.” 

God, Bram could listen to Simon ramble all day long. He could be talking about literally anything and it would still make Bram’s heart sing just as loud as it is right now. No matter what he’s talking about he always get so into it and he’s always so expressive when he speaks. Bram’s probably just smiling like a giant dork at him right now, but he honestly doesn’t even care. He shakes his head at Simon and laughs softly. “No, you’re good. I like listening to you talk,” he admits. “And that oreo blizzard sounds really good.”

Pink spreads into Simon’s cheeks and he ducks his head a little before meeting Bram’s gaze again. “Yeah?” He asks, his eyes sparkling. “Do you want to split one with me? Or— I mean, we could get our own but, like, together. Like a date, I mean.”

Bram literally can’t believe this is happening— that Simon Spier is sitting here, asking him on a date. Maybe choking down all those horrendous iced coffees was worth it if it got him here. He nods right away, way past the point of trying to be cool and not let his eagerness show. It’s Simon, and he kind of wants him to know just how much he likes him. “I’d love to get oreo blizzards with you,” Bram responds. “How does Friday sound?” 

Simon’s eyes light up. “Friday sounds perfect,” he agrees.

“It’s a date,” Bram says, and the butterflies erupt in his stomach.

 

The following Monday when Simon comes to class with coffee, he pecks Bram’s cheek before sliding into his seat. Because they do that now. Then he sets his iced coffee down and his hand finds Bram’s underneath the desk, twining their fingers together. Because they do that now, too. 

Bram can’t help the giddy smile that takes over his face, and his heart feels as full as the plastic cup of chocolate milk that Simon hands over to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought with a kudos or a comment! 
> 
>  
> 
> Come say [hi](http://evensdramaticshenanigans.tumblr.com/)! :)


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